Eric's First Ski Run
My brother Eric learned to ski before I did. When he was around six and I was seven and a half, our parents bought us alpine skis with the old style cable bindings a few days before we were scheduled to drive to Stevens Pass. Eric and I wanted a head start on learning to ski, so we decided to put on the skis and practice in the house. Of course, we were self-starters, so we didn’t ask our parents for any help (or permission). We figured the best place to practice was in the living room. Normally, we were discouraged from going in the living room because that was where all the good furniture was. However, the living room had a very expensive white Persian rug, which simulated snow much better than the brown Berber carpet in the family room. First Eric and I put on our ski boots. Then we each fumbled trying to figure out how to engage the boots into the skis based on what we remembered from the fitting at the ski shop. We quickly figured it out but then we both fell over on the “snow”. Of course this was good practice for getting up! The ski poles were ideal for steadying ourselves as we got up because the pointed ends got excellent purchase in the carpet underpadding and under flooring. We spend the next fifteen minutes practicing walking around in the skis on the “snow”, falling down and getting back up using the poles. I also figured out how to use one of the formal chairs from around the dining table as a makeshift bench to take off my skis. The tricky part was maneuvering the skis between the legs of the chair, so I could carry the chair away from table. I hardly banged the chair and table legs at all. Once the chair was in the middle of the room, I then walked backwards, again maneuvering the skis between the legs while looking backwards. Once the back of the skis were fully under the chair, I sat down and disengaged the cable bindings. Eric wanted to get more practice, so I left him and went downstairs to play in my room. About ten minutes later, I was startled to hear a loud thump-thump-thump…bang coming from the stairs outside my room. I ran outside just in time to see my Gramma Rachel running to the landing at the bottom of the stairs. There was Eric sitting on his skis with the tips resting against the wall at the end of the landing. I expected him to be hurt, but instead he was laughing hysterically! It reminded me of the previous winter after he miraculously survived the Norwegian Sled wipe out. With great concern in her face, Gramma Rachel examined Eric from head to toe asking if he was alright. Between hysterical convulsions, he managed to say he was fine and continued laughing. Gramma asked what had happened. Eric managed to blurt out “I skied down the stairs.” Gramma replied in her Norwegian accent “Herre gud, vy vould you do dat!?” To Gramma’s and my astonishment, Eric explained between laughs “I forgot I was wearing them!” Annoyed by Eric’s bemusement, Gramma admonished “You could have killed yourself!” Much to my surprise and annoyance, Eric immediately switched to crying. Big - heaving - sobs. I think he finally realized how lucky he was to have survived uninjured. Gramma gave him a big hug, helped him out of his skis, took him to her apartment and gave him some Graham crackers and milk. Later I asked Eric if he really forgot he was wearing skis. He swore that was the truth. I’m not sure I really believe him. You will have to ask him yourself. One thing I know for sure though is that skiing down the stairs was way more daring than our previous methods using cardboard, mattresses or even a box filled with pillows!